


A Bonded Reunion

by Lady_Perun



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Post-Fall of Overwatch, SOUL binds, Soulmate AU, first time writing overwatch anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8488129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Perun/pseuds/Lady_Perun
Summary: A one-shot loosely based on the Soulmate AU, when Ana makes her return to Overwatch.





	

She remembers the day almost perfectly. 

Every sound, every emotion, every glance of the sun; everything about that day was special. 

Her thoughts go to her old comrades of Overwatch while she begins cleaning her weapon, a biotic rifle, ensuring it is up to the task she has planned. 

_The good old days…_ She half-smiles at the thought. 

A smiling Jack Morrison invades her thoughts. The golden-haired poster-boy of Overwatch, with bright blue eyes and pearly white teeth. He was much more than that to everyone he commanded, though. He was a leader; natural-born. He commanded them with a fierceness that betrayed that smiling exterior. He had more than earned respect from them. She was devoted to serving him, and made damned sure to keep his sometimes-oblivious ass alive. 

Her thoughts drift to a young girl. Her smile saddens upon remembering her face. Fareeha – her daughter that she left those long years ago. She was not a part of Overwatch then, but since the recall, new members have been joining left and right. 

Ana didn’t much approve of the lot – considering most were barely old enough to live, let alone kill – and disapproved even less of her own daughter joining, though it was inevitable. She expressed interest when she was little, and Ana knew that she would join no matter what she had said. 

Ana just hoped that Fareeha was doing well. 

Again, Ana’s thoughts drifted. Slowly going through all of her old comrades, those dead and alive, before stopping on one face in particular. She hadn’t realized that she had paused in cleaning her rifle. 

_Reinhardt…_

She looked up and to the right, where a photo was resting at the end of her desk. It was a personal photo, taken when her and Reinhardt had a day off. Fareeha was sitting on the large mans arms, a genuine smile playing across her face. Reinhardt was, of course, smiling that goofy grin of his. 

_Such the charmer…_

Ana had her arms crossed and had her gaze aimed at the both of them. Her smile was small but full of warmth. That was taken at Reinhardt’s home in Stuttgart, if she recalled correctly. That was the first time all of them had been in the same place outside of the Watchpoints. 

Ana looks away from the photo and to her right hand, where a faint red band wraps around her ring finger, pointing west-northwest. She remembers when she had first laid eyes on the mountain of a man, and when they had both seen the faint red thread between them. She smiles absently and wonders what the big man is doing now. An alarm sounds and she sighs, only to get up and gather her things before heading out the door with luggage in tow. 

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

Reinhardt begins his normal routine for the day by waking and showering, eating a large breakfast at the mess hall, and finally makes his way to the training rooms. He leaves his armor in his dorm, as he has no use for it currently.

That and Brigitte would probably kill him in his sleep if he got even a scratch on it. 

It has been near six months since the Recall. He has watched new recruits pile in with fresh faces, bright and smiling, ready to do anything that Overwatch asks of them. The older members, including him, know to keep vigilant 

Only when he is training can he finally be quiet. 

Today, however, was different. Upon waking, he felt a shift in the atmosphere that he could not explain. His mind was clouded, his chest was tight, and something felt off. Not wrong, but he could do without the uncomfortable tugging at his consciousness. 

He sets up the routine, lifting his left hand to type in his identification and preferred training procedure when he notices. 

The band is red. 

He furrows his brow as he lifts his left hand closer to his good eye. Indeed, the band is red and pulsating, pointing in a specific direction. He shakes his head in disbelief. The band was supposed to represent a tying of souls, a perfect match – a Soulmate. Nearly everyone had one, and even a few at the base had ties to each other. 

Oh, how they all celebrated when the young Shimada and Angela, or Mercy, saw their bands link. Reinhardt made sure to fix a full German meal, and they had all drank more than they should have. 

He remembers the day the band appeared for himself. Remembers when he first looked into her eyes; dark and strong, with a tinge of smugness. 

He had fallen in love instantly. His heart had never felt so full. 

But he also remembers when his heart shattered. It was supposed to be a normal mission. It wasn’t even a difficult one. But Reinhardt had heard the comms, had seen Jack’s face. He remembers looking down to his band to find it pale. 

Ana was dead. 

Anger blooms and emotion tremors through his face and chest, making his face redden and his breath shake. 

“Why is it red?!” He angrily whispers. He is about to launch into training just so he can punch _something_ when the training door opens. He does not look in the direction of the door, fearing his face would betray him. 

“Hey big guy, was told to come find ya.” 

McCree. 

Reinhardt sighs. “I was about to start training. Is there something important?” 

When McCree doesn’t answer, Reinhardt turns to see the smuggest grin that he’s ever seen. “Well, probly not more important than trainin’, but uh,” he shrugs before continuing, “you should come anyway.” 

Reinhardt turns and begins to shut down the program when McCree speaks up again. “Big guy, I know somethin’s goin’ on with ya, but ‘m pretty sure that this’ll perk ya right up.” 

Reinhardt scoffs. “We shall see.” Then, with a big shit-eating grin on his face, “I could probably better train on a live target, anyway.” 

The sound of boot spurs clinking quickly away was enough to make him chuckle. 

It was only about 11 a.m., so the heat of the day had yet to fully set, but once Reinhardt stepped outside, he could tell it would be one of the hottest days yet. The sun was just peaking around the side of the cliff-face, but it was enough to make the surrounding area hot, with vapors of heat rising off the metal walls and the asphalt ground. Oh, how he hates the heat of Gibraltar. 

He makes his way to where he hopes McCree went, and as he approaches, he hears a commotion of voices from the mess hall. 

_Did I forget a birthday?_ He thinks as he rounds the corner. The door is open and McCree stands just outside, chewing on one of his cigarillos. Reinhardt shakes his head. 

“Aw, don’t judge. You might want one of ‘em after you see what’s in there.” He says as he points towards the mess hall with his left hand. 

Reinhardt raises an eyebrow but stays silent. He turns into the door, ducking below the doorway, and finds several other members crowded around one spot. He cannot pick out whom they’re talking to, nor can he hear them. His eyebrow still raised, he walks towards the group. 

As he approaches, Lena’s voice pokes through the crowd with a simple “hush!” 

That’s when they all separate. 

That’s when he sees her. 

Her hair is white and braided, curled around the front, slightly covering a black eye patch that is over her right eye. Her left eye dons the same tattoo, the Eye of Horus, which he remembers from so long ago. Clinging to her side is Fareeha, whose face is covered in tears. 

“Now, now, child.” The woman says. “There is really no need for this.” 

Fareeha jerks away with an incredulous look upon her face. “You have been gone for years; _dead_ , for _years_ , and you have the gall to say that?” 

They continue to bicker as Reinhardt silently stares. After a few moments, he looks down at his left hand, finding it pointing directly at the woman. He gently shakes his head in further disbelief when he notices how quiet it had gotten. 

Slowly, he brings his gaze up and finds her smiling at him. Her dark eyes are the same as he remembers; the same dark eyes that invaded his thoughts and memories and dreams. 

Her smile morphed into a smirk. 

“Reinhardt, I must say you are looking quite well. This life must agree with you.” Her dark eyes glance at his hand, no doubt taking notice of the band that is pointing in her direction, connecting to her own band. 

All eyes turn to look at Reinhardt as his stance relaxes and his smile perks left. 

“And _you_ are looking as lovely as ever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! First time writing for Overwatch and I can't explain how these two are my favorite ship... them and Gency, but yea. AnaHardt is too pure, and it took over my heart. I shipped them before I knew they were a ship and dear lord did they make me fall into Overwatch hell. 
> 
> Let me know how I did! I'll be writing more Overwatch stuff from here on, so any feedback is appreciated!


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